


Don't Kill Me While I Sleep

by BlackRose16



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, NCIS
Genre: Drama, F/M, M/M, Murder, Psychic Abilities, Romance, Spoilers, Violence, WIP
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-11-20
Updated: 2012-04-11
Packaged: 2017-10-26 08:19:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/280816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackRose16/pseuds/BlackRose16
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry still has visions after his defeat of Voldemort, related to anything and everything. He hasn't had a vision of a bad guy for some time. For the first time in a long time, he tunes in to a serial killer that is killing naval officers. Desperate to stop the visions he has, Harry goes to NCIS and offers to help their investigation in any way he can. There he meets Tony, an agent with NCIS. Together the pair learn to love but it is threatened when the killer decides to make things personal, targeting Harry. Racing against time will these new lovers find the killer before it's too late?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

I got the idea for this story from the book Dream Man by Linda Howard.

* * *

 **Don't Kill Me While I Dream**

 **Part 1**

He had just finished watching the eight o'clock movie when it happened. He had just begun to feel normal again, happy with the way his life had been going for a change when it hit him completely out of left field.

The vision came out of nowhere and with the force of a freight train.

\- _screams,_ _begging_ _to_ _be_ _let_ _go,_ _a_ _sense_ _of_ _power,_ _run,_ _hide_ _-_

Harry was just aware enough of his surrounding to lay down on the sofa he had been sitting on before the vision hit with its full force.

\- _a_ _long_ _knife,_ _glittering_ _with_ _what_ _little_ _light_ _there_ _was_ _in_ _the_ _room._

" _Please, please don't kill me," a woman begged and screamed as she ran blindly._

" _Shhh… pretty. Shhhh…."_

 _The knife came closer and closer._

" _please, no…"_

 _The knife glinted in the light as it came swooping down embedding in the soft body. Once, twice, three times…_

 _Blood spattered everywhere as the figure continued slashing and hacking chasing it's victim form one room to another. Power and a sense of euphoria._

 _Slowly the figure began to calm and think rationally. Moving around the room collecting anything that could be traced to it._

Abruptly the vision cut off. Harry lay on the dark blue sofa between the large pillows, desperately trying to catch his breath and stop his rolling stomach. Chills and violent shakes gripped the young man as he fought to stay conscious, to keep the crippling fatigue away just a bit longer.

Dobby appeared suddenly with popping sound, sensing something wrong with the young wizard that he had chosen to serve.

"Master Harry?" the house elf asked cautiously, unsure of how to help.

"Get… Mione…" Harry managed to gasp before allowing the darkness to claim him.

* * *

The team got the call before they had barely had a chance to sit down that morning. Gibbs came storming into the bullpen, his bad mood fairly vibrating off him.

"Gear up, we have another one," he ordered, grabbing his badge and gun from his desk draw impatiently before stalking out, heading towards the elevator.

Nobody had to ask what he meant. Someone had broken into their homes and killed two petty officers so far without leaving a single trace of evidence behind. Everyone was on edge and Gibbs was beyond angry at their lack of leads. Unfortunately, that meant that the older man took out his frustration on those around him.

Arriving at the scene, Tony showed his badge to the officer securing the scene and standing guard.

"We're with NCIS," he said indicating himself, Gibbs, McGee and Ziva.

The officer moved, allowing them entrance to the small house. The team was used to murder scenes by now, they were all even used to blood but this killer was different.

There was blood everywhere. Lamps, side tables and even the pictures from the walls were knocked over and broken. There was blood spatter on the floor, the walls and even pieces of the ceiling. Bloody handprints and a steady trail of blood led down the hallway to what Tony supposed was the bedroom. They were always finished off in the bedroom. She had put up a fight and tried to run away.

"McGee, Ziva, the living room. Photograph and bag everything you can," Gibbs ordered.

"DiNozzo you're with me in the bedroom," he barked carefully making his way to the bedroom.

"On your six, Boss," Tony called out, gingerly following.

The bedroom was even worse. It looked like it came straight out of one of the most gruesome horror movies he had ever seen. Since Tony had seen nearly every movie made, that was saying something.

Ducky and Palmer came in behind Tony and paused. It looked like there wasn't an inch of the room that hadn't been left untouched. Perfume, make-up and jewelry had been knocked off and broken from the dressing table. Several pillows that could have once been a cream colour lay on the floor now a horrible red.

Sprawled in the center of the bed lay a young woman. Her eyes, wide with terror, stared unseeing at the ceiling which was covered in blood. An occasional drop of blood dripped onto the body from the light hanging in the middle of the room from the ceiling. She had been stabbed, more like hacked at, a number of times. The sheets underneath her were tangled and so soaked with blood that it was difficult to tell what colour they had originally been.

Tony cleared his throat before talking quietly, "Petty Officer Alison Peters, age twenty three, not married. Didn't report for work this morning. A concerned neighbour knocked on the front door. The door opened, she spotted the blood and called 911."

"Oh my dear girl," Ducky sighed as he moved to examine the body.

Gibbs and Tony photographed and collected the evidence they could salvage as calmly as possible while Ducky and Palmer moved the body out. They were unable to find the murder weapon near the body. If the killer stuck to the pattern, they would have taken it with them when they left.

Gibbs headed back to the yard with Ducky to inform the director of the situation leaving Tony, Ziva and McGee behind to continuing going over the house with a fine tooth comb. It appeared that it had started in the kitchen, gone through the living room and ended in the bedroom. Nearly all the rooms were destroyed or covered in blood with overturned furniture. It was going to be a nightmare collecting what evidence they could find.

* * *

Hours later the weary team made it back to the yard and stepped onto the elevator.

"Argh… I need a shower," Tony moaned feeling decidedly unclean after that crime scene despite the fact that there really wasn't anything on him. Most people would feel unclean after seeing what they had though.

"For once, I agree with you Tony," Ziva said as she made her way to her desk.

They really needed to catch this killer but each had a feeling in the pit of their stomach that they would get as much concrete evidence from this scene as they did at the last one, which was a whole hell of a nothing.

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

I got the idea for this story from the book Dream Man by Linda Howard.

* * *

 **Don't Kill Me While I Dream**

 **Part 2**

It was just past midday when consciousness slowly began to return to him. Harry felt the softness of the mattress from his bed beneath him, but for the life of him couldn't remember how he had gotten there. All his muscles felt like lead. His eyes didn't want to open and he was seriously debating never moving again, when he heard the clip of shoes on the hardwood floor nearby indicating at least one other person was in the room with him.

Dazedly, Harry blinked rapidly before being able to open his eyes. He was lying in his room in a tangle of his bed sheets. The all too familiar pale blues walls surrounding him confirmed that.

Achingly slow, the young man attempted to sit up, and was startled when the mattress next to him dipped and someone slid a strong arm around him in support.

Another figure stepped forward and pressed a glass of ice water into his hand which he immediately gulped down, grateful for something to sooth his throat which felt like it had had sandpaper taken to it. He had been so thirsty; his throat had felt like sandpaper. Realizing who was with him in the room, Harry slumped back against the body of one of his best friends who was sitting behind him helping him to stay upright in his bed.

"Harry? You with us mate?" Ron asked quietly, his chest rumbling as he spoke.

"Argh…"

Hermione reached forward and brushed the hair from his eyes.

"Harry?" she asked.

Abruptly, the former Gryffindor remembered what had happened to prompt this arrival and worry of his friends. His whole body went rigid as the memory of his vision swept through him. His stomach rolled violently. He was going to be sick.

As if reading his mind, Ron and Hermione hurriedly helped him to the en suite bathroom where he was violently ill. He hadn't felt so awful in five years, ever since… No, he wasn't going back there. There had to have been a mistake. This couldn't be happening again. Pushing all thoughts from his mind, Harry stumbled to the sink, washed his hands and face and then glancing up at the mirror, freezing at the reflection before him.

He knew the man in the mirror was him but it was a version of himself he hadn't seen in so long. His skin was paler than the white bathroom tiles, skin taunt across his face. Wide, dull, terrified eyes stared back at him. There were dark circles rivaling his hair in colour under his eyes. The normal shaggy black hair hung limply around his shoulders.

Fuck, he looked like a train wreck and far older than his twenty-six years and suddenly felt like it too. Once again shaking, Ron caught him before he fell over face first and gently but firmly led him back to the bed with Hermione trailing behind them fussing like a mother hen as she tucked him in.

His two best friends crawled into bed on either side of him under the blankets, the bed large enough to fit them all and then some.

"Why was it so bad this time?" Harry spoke for the first time since waking.

Hermione immediately answered having thought of all this while Harry had been out, "Harry, you haven't had a vision in five years, at least not a full on proper vision. Your body and mind aren't used to it anymore so it's reacting more severely than it did before. It's a lot of stress"

Harry guessed that that made sense. He would have preferred it if he never had another vision again, but it would appear that fate was once again laughing at him. Never able to leave him to live in peace. Fucking bitch!

"You want to talk about it, mate?" Ron asked, having learned to be more sensitive after being married to Hermione for the last eight years.

Reluctantly, Harry nodded. He needed to get this out now before it began to eat away at him like poison.

"There… there was a woman, young, probably around our age. She was being chased in her own house by this figure. It had a knife and just kept slashing at her no matter where she ran or how much she begged to be left alone. So much blood. It was everywhere and still it didn't stop," Harry cried, "It didn't stop until it slashed her to ribbons."

Hermione rubbed his shoulder comfortingly.

"Harry, it's not your fault. There's nothing you could have done. You know that. This has happened before."

"I know but this time it's so much worse. It enjoyed killing her. Reveled in her pain and fear."

"Why are you using past tense, mate? Maybe it hasn't happened yet and you can stop it," Ron offered trying to cheer Harry up.

"No, it happened last night," Harry said with a certainty the other two didn't doubt.

Wordlessly, Harry summoned sheets of paper and pencils. Whenever he used to have visions, Hermione had had him sketch them. It helped him focus and was almost therapeutic. Hermione and Ron sat in silence watching his nightmare vision come to life on paper. They were used to Harry sketching what he saw, and they waited for him patiently. Some time later, Harry handed them the completed sketch as he immediately began working on the next one.

Ron and Hermione stared at the picture, horrified. Even with the picture only in black and white, it was terrifying. The drawing looked like something that came straight out of the worst horror movies that Dean and Seamus had made them watch a while back. Even in the war, they had never seen something quiet so bloody and cruel.

The picture was of a young woman lying sprawled across a bed. Her eyes were wide open in terror. The bed covers looked soaked in dark liquid. A sinister figure stood to the side, his back to them presumably staring at the bed as he cleaned off a wicked, jagged looking knife. Just staring at the picture made Ron and Hermione want to hide away.

Harry continued sketching furiously, the pile of horrendous pictures steadily building up. There were pictures of a number of rooms in the house. Some showing the woman running, others after the fact, splattered in blood.

Eventually, Harry stopped and spread the pictures out across the bed. A badge lying in the corner of one of the pictures caught his attention and he pulled the page towards himself for a closer look.

"Hermione, this looks like a badge of some kind. Do you know where from?" Harry asked, passing the page to his friend.

The brunette witch took the page and studied it.

"It looks familiar just give me a minute."

Two minutes later, she nodded in recognition.

"The badge belongs to someone from the U.S. navy. I remember it now because one of my dad's friends used to be in the navy and had one similar to this. It looks like a woman's I.D. so chances are; the dead woman was part of the navy in some capacity."

Harry nodded slowly in thought.

"Harry, are you going to go to the authorities?" Hermione queried.

"I don't know. I want to help. If we can find out who we need to speak to maybe we can get Kingsley to call and vouch for me. Most muggles will think I'm nuttier than a fruit bar if I just walk in and claim to have psychic visions."

The brunette nodded in agreement while Ron looked slightly confused.

"Ok, well I'll contact Kingsley so long, while you do research in who deals with navy murders," Hermione ordered, taking charge of the situation, making Harry smile slightly.

He could always count on her help. He was going to need both her and Ron before this was through, especially considering what had happened five years ago. No. Not going there. Not ever again.

An hour and a half later Hermione returned with the news that Kingsley would be more than happy to vouch for them, they just had to let him know who to talk to.

"Harry, do you know where we have to go?" she inquired.

"Yes. We need to go to the nearest Navy Yard. We're going to have to talk to NCIS."


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

I got the idea for this story from the book Dream Man by Linda Howard.

* * *

 **Don't Kill Me While I Dream**

 **Part 3**

Hermione pulled out her little red cell phone and dialed as the trio walked outside towards Harry's black Toyota. Despite the horrendous driving he and Ron had displayed during second year, Harry was actually quiet an exceptional driven these days and he did live partly in the muggle world so a car was a must

"Hello, yes I'd like the number and address of the nearest NCIS office please," Hermione's voice came out clear and calm.

"Uhuh, yes, ok thank you."

Ron and Harry were standing beside the car watching the brunette expectantly. It was always best to leave these things to Hermione. She made sure that every detail was taken care of.

"I know where we're going. It's only about twenty minutes away. Harry, you wanna drive and I'll give directions or do you want me to drive?"

Harry gazed at his friend in gratitude for her offer. He felt nowhere near calm enough to drive. In his present state, he was far more likely to drive them off the road, which was something he would like to avoid, thank you very much.

"You drive, Mione," he replied, handing over the keys to her.

Silently, Hermione took the keys and climbed into the driver's seat. Ron took the passenger seat beside her while Harry climbed in the back where he could sprawl out if need be.

As she reversed out of the driveway, Hermione dialed the number that she had been given for the NCIS offices they were heading to. The phone was on speaker and the dial tone echoed thorough the silence in the car.

 _Ring,_ _Ring,_ _Ring_

" _Hello,_ _NCIS_ _Washington_ _DC_ _Office_ _._ _How_ _may_ _I_ _direct_ _your_ _call?_ _"_

"Hello, I'm wondering if you could help me. I'm looking for the person in charge of the investigation for the murder of," Hermione grabbed the sketch with the badge on and squinted trying to read the name, "ah…Alison Peters."

" _One_ _moment,_ _please._ _"_

The sound of tapping on a keyboard could be heard over the phone.

" _Agent_ _Gibbs_ _is_ _in_ _charge_ _of_ _the_ _case,_ _ma_ _'_ _am._ _He_ _is_ _currently_ _out_ _in_ _the_ _field._ _Would_ _you_ _like_ _me_ _to_ _patch_ _you_ _through_ _to_ _him_ _or_ _I_ _could_ _put_ _you_ _through_ _to_ _one_ _of_ _his_ _agents_ _that_ _are_ _currently_ _in_ _the_ _office?_ _"_

"No, thank you. I'll just come in person. Thank you for your help."

" _My_ _pleasure,_ _ma_ _'_ _am._ _Have_ _a_ _nice_ _day._ _"_

"That was relatively easy," Hermione commented once she had hung up.

Harry hummed in agreement, looking out the window as his friend made a right turn at the next green light.

The closer they got, the more Harry began to fidget. His left leg was constantly bouncing, his right fingers tapping away on the arm rest. After a few minutes, Ron turned around in his seat to check on him in concern.

"Harry, mate? You okay there?"

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"

Ron stared at him incredulously.

"Harry, stopped fidgeting," Hermione ordered from the driver's seat without even turning around to look at her agitated friend.

"But, Mione…" Harry began.

"But nothing, Harry. It will be fine. You know we have Kingsley's support. If worst comes to worst, we can have the case pulled from them and Ron can work it if they make too much trouble."

Harry stared at his best friend's back in shock, completely overwhelmed again that they would be willing to go to so much trouble for him even though the three of them had been best friends for years and years.

"We could do that?"

"Yes, I checked with Kingsley. You're the Saviour. If you're having visions of something, then we have the grounds to do what we need to, to stop whatever the threat is."

Harry let out a breath he hadn't even been aware that he had been holding. He'd killed Voldemort in his seventh year. It had stopped a full scale war from erupting but it couldn't bring back Sirius or Dumbledore. At least Remus had survived. He now lived with Tonks and their son, Teddy, who was his godson. He made a point of visiting them in England at least twice a month and then there were the weekly owls.

Shortly after he had killed Voldemort though, his other powers had emerged. Hermione had a theory that the horcrux that had been inside of him had been suppressing some of his powers, so when he died thereby getting rid of it, the rest of his powers were unleashed. Included in that had been a large power boost and _wonderful_ physic abilities.

Most of the time it was just little things. He knew someone was coming over before they even arrived. He never had things go missing since he always knew where they were when he thought about it. When he had integrated Muggle technology into his home, Harry had discovered a few things. He could answer any question posed on any quiz show. He knew the phone was going to ring and who it would be before it happened. It was also impossible for anyone to lie to him. He was like a human lie detector. He could actually feel when someone was lying or being truthful.

In the beginning, he had also had full on premonitions. He had spent the first three years helping the Ministry track down any remaining Death Eaters along with some murderers with the help of his visions. Then things had gone bad. Really, catastrophically bad, he'd…

No, he wasn't going to dwell on that. Not now when he had to be focused. Harry couldn't afford to fall apart now, he could do that later in the comfort of his own home.

A gentle hand on his knee jerked him out of his thoughts. Startled, he looked up.

"Mate, we're here," Ron informed him quietly.

Harry looked around. They were at some sort of security check point.

"I.D.s please," a soldier spoke to Hermione.

The young woman nodded and pulled out three I.D.s from the glove box. Harry could have sworn he hadn't put them there so Hermione had probably summoned them from somewhere.

The soldier took them and checked them against the three people present in the car. He nodded and then asked if they wouldn't mind opening the trunk. Once the car's trunk had been checked over as well as the undercarriage of the car, they were waved through and given direction on where to go when Hermione asked the location of the NCIS headquarters.

They parked outside the large brick building and Hermione and Ron both turned to look at their friend in concern.

"Harry, you ready?" Hermione asked gently.

Harry nodded and slowly climbed out the car to gaze at the building before them. Ron and Hermione came round to stand on either side of him.

The building had three floors, four if you counted the one underground. There were a lot of glass windows. People were coming and going from the building. It had a nice, well looked after green lawn in front and a large sign stating NCIS on it.

Harry took a deep breath before walking forward in measured, determined steps. They came to a stop inside the building by a metal detector. A security guard was standing beside it, checking over all those coming in. Noticing the trio, he stepped forward.

"Good day, how can I help you?"

Ron answered while Hermione looked around curiously, automatically mentally cataloging everything she saw.

"We're here to speak to an Agent Gibbs. Can you tell us where to find him or his team?"

"Agent Gibbs is out in the field at the moment but maybe Agent DiNozzo can help you out?"

"Who is Agent DiNozzo?" Harry asked.

"He is Gibbs' senior agent. Shall I call up and check if he will see you?"

Hermione was the one to answer this time.

"Please, if it wouldn't be too much trouble."

The security guard smiled as he moved to the phone sitting on the desk beside the metal detector.

"Agent DiNozzo, this is Tom. There are three people here to see Agent Gibbs or you. Shall I have someone escort them up?"

"Mmhm. Yes. Not a problem."

Indicating to a man standing down the hall near an elevator, the security guard told them, "He'll escort you up to Agent DiNozzo."

~XOX ~

Tony frowned as he put the phone down.

"What is it, Tony?" Special Agent Timothy McGee asked, noticing the perplexed look on his friend's face.

"I'm not sure. That was Tom. Apparently there are three people on their way up. They want to talk to either Gibbs or me."

Tim frowned.

"Did they say why?"

"No."

"Well, you'll have to deal with them since you are Gibb's senior agent, as you like to remind us all," he teased the brunette.

Just then the elevator dinged as it stopped. Tony and Tim both stood and looked towards it as three people walked out escorted by a marine. The man on the left was tall easily 6'3" with somewhat fiery red hair and freckles scattered across his face. The woman on the right was beautiful. She had long brown hair and hazel eyes. But what caught Tony's attention was the young man in the middle of the trio.

He had black hair that looked like it had had a fight with a comb and the comb had lost. He was paler than most people in Washington D.C. but not sickly so. The most enchanting part of him though was his eyes. Tony stared at emerald green eyes as they drew closer. He found himself absently wondering if they would sparkle like emeralds in the sun if the young man laughed.

"We're looking for Agent DiNozzo," the brunette woman spoke softly.

Tony's attention reluctantly moved to the speaker.

"I'm Tony DiNozzo. What can I do for you?"

The last was asked while staring at the raven haired beauty. Said young man promptly blushed, took a deep breath and then answered.

"My name is Harry Potter. I'm psychic and I came to help with the murder of Alison Peters."

Both Tim and Tony stared at the pair in shock before glancing at each other. Tim's eyes sparkled as they conveyed a message.

 _Better you than me. Can't wait for you to tell Gibbs._

Shit! Gibbs! How in the hell was Tony supposed to tell Gibbs that apparently there was a physic here offering his help even when said physic looked like something out of Tony's wet dreams.

"DiNozzo, what's going on here?" a voice suddenly barked out from behind their three visitors.

FUCK! Oh, well. No time like the present.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Beta:** elsa_kallan
> 
> **Warnings:** slash, language, violence and bloody descriptions of crime scenes, mature sex scenes…hmmm… I can't think of anything else at this point will let you know.
> 
> **Disclaimer:** All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
> 
> I got the idea for this story from the book Dream Man by Linda Howard.

"DiNozzo, what's going on here?" a loud voice suddenly barked out from behind their three visitors.

"Um… well boss, this guy says that he's a psychic and that they're here to help with our case," Tony explained in a rush as Gibbs drew closer.

Gibbs' face became a stony mask causing all three of his agents to wince slightly. The older man absolutely detested anyone interfering in his cases especially when it came to those he viewed as wasting his time.

He studied the three strangers before him. None of them looked to be past their mid twenties and yet all three of them had a look about them. A look in their eyes that said they had seen more than someone so young should ever see. It made him wary.

Despite the look that Gibbs had leveled at their three visitors none of them appeared to be the least bit fidgety. Most grown men at least began to shift on their feet when Gibbs gave them one of his stares.

Gibbs frowned. The visitors didn't look or fit the profile of the usual kooks and weirdos they got trying to "help" with high profile cases and yet here they were with a self-proclaimed _psychic_.

"Let's go somewhere more private to talk," Tony suggested, hoping to defuse the situation before Gibbs caused a scene.

Gibbs gave his second a sharp nod in agreement, turned on his heel and marched towards the interrogation rooms. Tony barely suppressed a sigh. He didn't think that the day could get any worse but there was not a chance in hell that he was going to voice that out loud… just in case the universe decided to prove him wrong.

~XOX~

Leon Vance, Director of the NCIS, took a sip of his coffee and leaned back in his large office chair. All the reports and other paperwork were finally up to date and he had no pressing meetings for the next hour.

A knock on his office door broke him out of his relaxed state.

"Come," he stated loud enough to be heard by whoever was on the other side if his door.

A second later the door opened to reveal Johanna, his secretary, and she had the look of someone that was desperately hoping he wouldn't kill the messenger. Leon barely contained the sigh of irritation he wanted to express. He'd bet that whatever she was about to impart had something to do with Gibbs or his team. They always were making his life as difficult as possible.

"Sir, I'm sorry to interrupt you but I thought you should know. Agent Gibbs has Harry Potter in Interrogation Room 2."

Leon frowned. He knew that he knew that name from somewhere…

A heartbeat later, the information clicked and he was up and out of his office as fast as he could move. Hurriedly, he made his way down the stairs and headed straight for the interrogation room. He was desperately hoping that Gibbs' actions weren't about to create an International incident or something along those lines. A great many people would be highly unhappy if Mr. Potter wasn't treated with the highest respect at all times.

It only took him three minutes to get from his office and into the observation room where Tony, Ziva and McGee were watching Gibbs interrogate Mr. Potter.

"Look, I've already told you all I know. What else do you want?" an aggravated British voice could be heard.

Vance immediately guessed that it belonged to Harry Potter.

"How about we start with the truth? You can't come in here, claim to be some sort of psychic and then proceed to give me confidential details of the case and expect me to believe you," Gibb's angry response caused all those in the observation room to cringe for two entirely different reasons.

His team was cringing in sympathy for Harry. They knew what Gibbs was like when he was on a war path, and nobody _really_ deserved to be on the receiving end, at least not until they knew he was guilty.

Leon on the other hand was cringing for an entirely different reason. Gibbs was one step away from blowing a gasket and Harry Potter was the last person he should do that around. The paperwork alone from the potential fallout would be a nightmare and something he would rather avoid. That didn't include the possible consequences that NCIS might have to face. It would be as bad, if not worse, than creating an international incident, if not an interspecies incident.

Considering the type of creatures Harry called friend.

Leon had never personally met a goblin, but he'd heard stories… if he never managed to remedy that, well, he wasn't going to look that hippogriff in the mouth… err… beak, whatever!

Mind made up, Leon quickly walked out of observation and into the interrogation room.

Gibbs turned to snap at whoever was daring to interrupt. He took a moment to pause though, when he saw that it was the director.

"Gibbs," he nodded in greeting before turning his full attention to the young man seated across them at the table.

The first thing that occurred to him was how young the man looked. The shaggy black hair and bright green eyes did nothing but make him look younger. Leon was astounded. While in theory he knew that the Saviour of the Wizarding World was young, he'd been seventeen when he'd killed you-know-who so he was around twenty six, twenty seven now.

However, now that he was faced with the flesh and blood version, it just brought home the sheer magnitude of what everyone had demanded from someone so young.

"Mr. Potter, I'm Leon Vance, the Director of NCIS," Leon offered his hand for Harry to shake.

Frowning slightly, Harry none the less shook the director's hand. He didn't know if it was a good or bad thing that the Director of NCIS had personally come down to see him. However, he would take what he could get since talking to Agent Gibbs got fewer results than banging his head against a brick wall.

"Leon?" Gibbs bit out through his teeth.

Leon turned and gave Gibbs a slightly sympathetic smile, well it looked sympathetic if you really squinted and tilted your head to the left.

Harry sat and watched the silent battle of will between the two men in front of him. He was utterly amused but dared not show it on his face, at least until he got out of the little room that he was currently in. After all this time, he still detested small spaces.

"Information regarding Mr. Potter is classified Gibbs, at the highest level. He's worked for some extremely powerful and influential people. All you need to know is that you can bank on anything that he tells you. I know you're extremely sceptical when it comes to things that you can't quantify but Mr. Potter is the exception."

The only thing that Leon's speech managed to do was irritate Gibbs further and make him determined to get to the bottom of the mystery that was on Harry James Potter.

"Can I get out of here? I don't like small spaces," Harry spoke from the other side of the interrogation table reminding the two men that they were not alone.

Leon immediately turned to Harry and smiled politely at him.

"Of course, Mr. Potter."

The dark haired man held up a hand, "Please, call me Harry. Mr. Potter makes me feel old."

"Harry," Leon nodded in agreement, "If there's anything else you need to discuss with us we can move it to one of the conference rooms."

Harry stood and calmly walked out the door of the interrogation room even though he desperately wanted to run.

"If it's not too much trouble Director, might I ask that you release my friends as well?" Harry asked politely, the unspoken you had better, broadcasted loud and clear to both Leon and Gibbs.

White-lipped with fury, Gibbs followed Vance and Potter to one of the conference rooms. Somewhere between the interrogation room and the conference room, they were joined by Ziva, Tony and McGee who were escorting Mr. and Mrs. Weasely.

Once everyone, including Director Vance, was all seated around the conference table, Harry took a deep breath and recounted his story one more time. The entire time that he spoke he was aware of Gibbs sitting beside him, silently fuming.

"I realize that it's not much but I wanted to come forward with what I did have," Harry sighed tiredly and rubbed a hand over his face. "And if my visions go like they usually do, it won't be long before I have another one."

Gibbs snorted, not bothering to hide his disbelief and irritation.

Annoyed, Harry turned and gave his full attention to the older agent.

"What, exactly, is your problem with me Agent Gibbs?"

"I don't like people interfering in high profile cases and "helping" when all they want is their five minutes of fame and a name in the newspaper," Gibbs barked.

Harry shook his head, "I don't want that. In fact, I'll even go so far as to insist that my name be left out of it all together. If you can't do that then I'll pull whatever strings I need to, to get this case assigned to someone who will respect my need for privacy."

"You can't do that," Gibbs declared, outraged at the nerve the black haired young man was displaying.

"Actually," Vance spoke from further down the table, "he can, and he will if he has to."

Tony, Ziva and McGee were watching the entire exchange warily. They had never seen someone irritate Gibbs on such a level who wasn't being booked for murder.

"Tell me, Agent Gibbs," Harry began slowly, an idea taking form in his mind, "what would it take for you to believe?"

Gibbs frowned, "Believe in what?"

"In me," Harry waved a hand at his sketches, "in my abilities."

A thought full look passed over Gibbs' face. A few moments later he gazed at Harry triumphantly. There was no way that the young man would be able to do it and best of all it would exposing him for the phony that he was.

"I lost something a long time ago. It was very precious to me," Gibbs told him mysteriously. "If you can tell me where it is, then I might begin to believe."

Harry tilted his head to the side slightly as he stared at Gibbs. His face took on a sad expression and a soft "Oh." escaped him.

"I see. I can do you one better, Agent Gibbs," Harry informed him softly.

The green eyed young man placed an open hand on the table, palm facing upwards. He placed his other hand on topof it, as though he was holding something between his hands. Harry closed his eyes and concentrated. A little furrow formed between his eyebrows.

Hermione and Ron sat silently watching him. They turned to each other, eyes rolling, silently saying here-we-go-again. They had been friends with Harry for so long now that they were used to his little displays of power. It never ceased to amaze them what all their friend could do, but they had grown accustomed to it over the years.

If they hadn't all been watching Harry, they would have missed the brief flash of light that emanated from between Harry's hands. The black haired man's face smoothed out and he opened his eyes. Harry turned so that his entire body was facing Gibbs.

"Tell me Agent Gibbs, do you believe in possibilities?" Harry queried softly as he lifted his hand. Everyone could see that he was clasping something in his hand but couldn't see what it was.

Confused, Gibbs shook his head slowly as he watched Harry reach over and place his hand over one of his own. He was shocked when he felt something cold and metallic fall into his hand with Harry's still covering his own.

No.

It wasn't possible.

"Is it possible that this could be the locket you and your wife boughtfor Kelly's sixth birthday?"

Silence met his question but Harry pressed on.

"Is it possible that this is that very same locket that holds a picture of you and Shannon?"

Slowly, moving at a snail's pace, Harry began to move back.

"Is it possible that this is the very locket you've been searching for, the one that contains a lock of hair from Kelly's first hair cut?"

Finally, Harry moved his hand away completely to reveal a slightly tarnished, heart-shaped gold locket in the palm of Gibb's hand.

"So tell me Agent Gibbs, do you believe in possibilities now?"

Gibbs stared down at the locket in disbelief. With slightly shaking hands, he pried open the locket and stared. There in either side of the heart locket was a picture of him and a picture of Shannon. Pulling out his pocket knife, the older NCIS agent pulled the picture of a younger version of himself out and froze. Behind the picture was a lock of hair. The hair was the exact colour that Kelly's hair had been.

Eyes wild with desperate hope, he looked up at Harry. The green eyed young man gave him a sad smile and a nod.

"I'm taking this to Abby," Gibbs informed everyone, his voice sounding a little hoarse.

"Do you want me to take it, boss?" Tony offered, concerned about Gibbs' reaction.

Gibbs closed his fingers over the locket, holding onto it tighter.

"No. I'll take it down myself."

Before he walked out the room though, Gibbs picked up the phone on the conference room table and pressed the number for the direct line to the morgue. He didn't give Ducky anytime to start speaking.

"Ducky, I need you to bring the comb-set to Abby's lab."

Gibbs' request was met with silence on the other end. After a few moments, Ducky replied hesitantly.

"Alright, I'll do it now."

"Thanks, Duck."

Gibbs hung up the phone nodded to those in the room and walked out. Tony, Ziva and McGee sprang up and hurried after their boss, curiosity burning between them.

Vance turned to the three visitors left behind.

"Thank you for reaching out to us, Mr. Potter. If you have anything else to add, anything at all, please don't hesitate to call us," Leon shook Harry's hand and then Hermione and Ron.

"I'll escort you out."

The golden trio as they had been called in school followed the Director of NCIS out the conference room and to the elevator.

On the ride back home, Harry feverishly wished that he didn't have another vision. His luck had never held out before, so he wasn't all that surprised when it didn't this time.

~XOX~

Gibbs walked into Abby's lab still clutching the gold locket tightly in his hand. The loud music a familiar comfort to the older agent who felt as though the carpet had just been ripped out from underneath him

"Gibbs," the black haired woman exclaimed when she spotted him, turning off her music to better hear him.

"Abby, I need you to run a DNA match on this."

Abby frowned and reached for the lock of hair resting in the locket.

"What am I comparing it to?" she asked, utterly confused.

She was relatively certain that this had nothing to do with their current case. Just then Ducky walked in carrying an ornate jewelry box. Silently, he handed it over to Abby.

"Run it against the hair in the brush," Gibbs told her quietly, not sounding at all like himself.

"Gibbs?"

"Please, just do this Abby."

Both Ducky and Gibbs watched silently as Abby worked. Tony, McGee and Ziva watched from the door way not wanting to intrude but also not wanting to miss out on anything.

When the machine finally beeped its result, everyone seemed to be holding their collective breaths.

"It's a match Gibbs," Abby spoke softly, almost whispering.

She'd seen the name engraved on the hair brush and knew that it had belonged to Kelly, Gibbs' daughter that had died. Gibbs closed his eyes, took a deep breath and walked out, needing some space.

The rest of the team watched their boss walk out.

"Why did you have the box with the brush?" Ziva asked once Gibbs was gone.

Ducky gave her a small smile, "I bought her the brush set for her last birthday. When she died, Jethro asked that I hold onto it."

~XOX~

Harry breathed a sigh of relief as he finally walked into his home, his one sanctuary, firmly shutting the world out with the wooden barrier that was his front door. Hermione and Ron had headed home after extracting a promise that he would call them if something went wrong.

The raven haired man took two steps inside, dropping his keys into the small, blue glass bowl that he had placed on the tiny table against the wall. His umbrella stood resting against one of the table's legs and two hooks with a jacket and a coat had been nailed into the wall above the little table.

Automatically, Harry ran a hand trough his black hair, making it even messier as he headed in the direction of his kitchen. He pulled a glass out of the cupboard above the kitchen sink and turned to open the fridge door. Biting on his lower lip, he grabbed the carton of grape juice and poured himself a glass.

Having gotten a glass of juice, Harry left the kitchen and made his way to the living room. He turned on the TV, desperate to have some background noise that might drown out the thoughts playing through his head, if even for only a moment or two.

"Harry, sir," a voice squeaked from his left.

"Hi, Dobby."

Harry gave the loyal house elf a tired smile, or at least he tried. It may have come out as more of a grimace. Definitely a grimace if Dobby's worried face was anything to go by. The small creature took his master's health and care very seriously after all.

"You be getting sleep, Harry sir."

Harry sat down on the closest sofa and leaned back. His legs were spread with his arms resting on his thighs, the cold glass of juice hanging in his fingers between his splayed legs. The sofa was exceedingly comfortable and molded itself around his body almost like a second skin.

"I'll try, Dobby."

Harry tipped his head to rest on the back of the sofa, his green eyes falling shut as he allowed his exhaustion to spread through his body.

~XOX~

The NCIS team, minus Gibbs, had unanimously and silently decided to head to their bar once work ended for the night. Drinks were ordered and everyone downed their first with haste. McGee ordered another round and slumped in his seat. Unsurprisingly, it was Tony that broke the silence and grabbed the proverbial bull by the horns.

"So who here might possibly be beginning to believe that Harry Potter might be able to do some form of magic?"

Silence met his question. Nonetheless, Tony nodded his head as if they had all answered him out loud. The sound of people chatting all around them and the familiar surroundings helping the team to relax, even if was only slightly.

Tony stared down into his own drink, lifting it a centimeter or two to swirl the liquid in the glass a little before he down it in one go.

As he placed the shot glass on the table that they were all seated around, Ziva spoke for the first time since entering the bar with the exception of ordering her drinks.

~XOX~

Harry woke slowly unsure of how long he had slept and of what it was that had woken him. It was dark out so he knew that he had slept the rest of the day away. The glass that had been in his hand had been placed on the floor beside his one foot and someone, it had to have been Dobby, had covered him with a blanket.

The raven haired man frowned slightly. He couldn't remember what it was that had woken him but something felt off. He only had a second's warning, the telltale tingling feelings creeping down his spine before it hit him.

The sound of the glass shattering as it was knocked over went unnoticed by Harry as he was sucked into a vision.

~XOX~

"In Mossad, we are trained to not ignore all possibilities, no matter how absurd they may sound," Ziva spoke softly.

Tony sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face and through his hair, making half of it stand on end but he was past caring at that moment.

"That's what I thought. How long until you think Harry has another vision or this guy kills again?"

McGee shuddered, Ziva barely suppressed her flinch, Palmer paled rapidly, Abby winced and Ducky's hands tightened where they were gripping his glass, the knuckles turning white. Tony's question didn't bare thinking about. They all knew that their killer wouldn't stop until they stopped him or her themselves.

~XOX~

_The broken glass made a loud crunching sound as a large, black boot stepped on it and ground it into the polished hardwood floor. Everything else was eerily silent throughout the house. There wasn't even the sound of crickets coming from outside the house._

_A knife glittered in the moonlight._

_A black, gloved finger ran along the sharp blade, the action done in a loving, almost caressing manner that would have made a sane person shudder._

_A soft voice crooned into the silence, echoing in the rooms. The sound enough to make every hair on a person's body stand on end._

" _Round… and round… the Mulberry bush…"_

~XOX~

Tony stared grimly into the bottom of his now empty glass. As a team, they had had some pretty hairy cases. They had even had their share of horrific cases. Ari that had killed Kate. The time that Tony himself had been framed for murder. The case with the severed head of Parker Wayne. The serial killer who had taken off her victim's toe. The bombings that had killed Cassidy and her team. The five women who were killed and had their rings fingers cut off.

He could go on and on.

Despite the many cases that they had worked on, Tony still had extreme feelings of misgivings concerning their latest case. Things were already spiraling out of control and they had barely begun their investigation and if he was right, their killer had only begun killing.

~XOX~

_A floorboard creaked as a black boot stepped on and then off it._

"… _the monkey… chased… the weasel…"_

_The figure entered the main bedroom, footfalls muffled by the carpet as it advanced._

~XOX~

The lively crowd in the bar was doing nothing to lift the spirits of the team as they all sat nursing their drinks.

"This is going to be a bad one isn't it? Maybe the worst?" Timothy McGee spoke, his voice just above a whisper.

His team all heard him despite the loud noises that drowned out all quiet conversations. Nods all round the table greeted his question.

~XOX~

_Absolute silence reigned as a black gloved hand slowly reached for the knob on the cupboard door._

"… _pop…"_

_The hand turned the cupboard doorknob quietly and in no hurry what so ever. The cupboard door squeaked as it was eased open, allowing a sliver of moonlight to enter the previously dark cupboard._

"… _goes the weasel."_

_Inside the cupboard, a young woman's headed jerked up at the sound, her hair falling in messy disarray in her face. Upon seeing who had opened the cupboard where she was hiding, the young woman let out a bloodcurdling scream._

_Her scream echoed through her home as the figure advanced on her, the knife flashing as it was raised and then sharply brought down._

~XOX~

"Yeah, Tim. This one's going to be real bad and it's only just begun," Tony answered the younger agent, silently praying that they would all live to see the case closed.

~XOX~

TBC...

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first real crime story as well as psychic so I'm making it up as I go along. What you think? Good? Bad?


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